Faolán and his scouts made their way through one of the smaller tunnels on the western side of their bivouac. Within the tunnel they found a dozen pools of fresh water, unspoiled and cool. They filled jugs for the camp before retreating back to their tents, wary of unknown creatures that might be lurking in the dark.
They did not rest long, quickly returning to their task of exploration. They did so with little zeal, as they were exhausted from marching and longing for fresh air. As children of Naira, the Moon Goddess, they felt a growing uneasiness the further they were from the moonlight. Though they adored their queen, they questioned her judgment and, silently, pondered returning to the surface, with or without the prince of dreams.
As they explored, they came to an abandoned oasis, which had become overgrown with malum flowers and carrion trees. In the humidity, and frondescence, was a rather large pool of stagnant water shadowed by the skeletal remains of a dragon cousin, the drake. Smaller than a dragon’s, the skeleton seemed poised to strike at an enemy and the foliage around it appeared as though it had risen up to prevent it. It was a startling sight and the men stood in awe of the scene. As they stood, agog, Kiri crept into the passage. She drew near to Faolán, her teal eyes glowing. She did not touch him, her gaze bound to the view.
As if rising from a dream, Faolán felt her presence and he turned to look at the sorceress. She stood as still as a statue, at first, her face unusually pale. Half in fear, and half in wonder, he reached out to touch one tangled strand of beryl hair. She turned to look at him and his mouth went dry.
Slowly, she moved toward the remains, whispering. No one moved to stop her, watching in shock as the vegetation parted for her. The drake's bones began to tremble, as though a great weight was pressed upon it. The witch lifted her hands, almost in reverence, and her mumbling became chattering, growing louder and louder. It grew until her voice was as deep as the ocean and as brutal as the winter winds. The drake began to sway and the overgrown forests fell back, releasing it.
"Show me." she demanded, her hair rising as though in the grip of a building storm. She began to glow, her tattoos suddenly vibrant and her whole being vibrating under some unseen strain. An illusory storm burst inside the tunnel, bending the overgrowth to its will and building in pressure until it seemed that they would all be destroyed. Several guards fell into a swoon, collapsing like flowers in a hurricane.
"Kiri," cried Faolán, throwing himself against the swirling magic. "Cease! Thou wilt destroy us all!"
Without turning, she threw out a hand and he was ensnared by snake-like vines, twisting themselves into his clothing, almost to his skin.
Tangled, he watched in wonder as the drake's skeletal wings began to beat, lifting it up and revealing a hidden room. It hovered for a moment, blazing as brightly as a torch, waiting for some signal. Then, gently, the drake landed, settling like an over-sized dog before a fire, its long decayed snout pointing toward the door. Just as quickly as it had risen up, the witch storm surceased and the whole passageway fell into an unearthly silence.
The scouts watched, gaping at the scene in something resembling reverence and horror, as Kiri neared the wooden archway. The door opened slowly, an eerie light illuminating an ivy draped frame and a glimpse of glowing runes. She seemed entranced, her body moving almost mechanically, still pulsating with the effects of magic.
Faolán, still twisted up with vines, tried to reach his sword to hack his way out. The vines, however, suddenly offered no resistance and fell away. Sprinting toward Kiri, he tried to grab her and pull her away from the entrance. Too late, his fingers grazed her henna skin as the heavy oaken door slammed in his face. No matter how he beat against it, he could not enter and, when he pressed his ear to the timber, he heard nothing but his own heart pounding against his ribs.
Kiri glanced back at the door, Faolán's touch against her wrist fading and her heart pounding in her ears. She should be unsurprised, the unseen thread drawing her to the center of the hexagonal chamber. The voices of ghosts bubbled in her blood, warnings and secrets, hooking into her subconscious and dragging her to her knees. The walls were carved with shimmering crystal eyes, each shining brighter than the next and blinking out of time. They observed her, kneeling as though she were rooted to the floor.
"Why have you come, enchantress?" asked a soft voice, resonating long years and deep scars.
"I have come as a prisoner of the Faery Court." she replied. The weight of years settled upon her shoulders, like a heavy cloak, pressing her against the rough hewn floor.
"What do the Moon children desire to find within these caves?"
"We come seeking the Dragon King and the Prince of Dreams. The Queen of Faeries is under siege by the King of Goblins and she is in need of an ally. No ally is as powerful as a Dragon."
"The Dragons have long faded from this world," said the voice, all the eyes closing in unison, leaving the room in complete darkness. "You will find no allies here."
Struggling to her feet, Kiri took a step toward a large crystal, the color of a swan's beak, fighting down the overwhelming terror she felt as all the voices within her went silent.
"Please, she cried, her hands outstretched, imploring. "There are myths, stories passed between the goddesses as they bathe, that say that the Dragon King, Uduak, still lives. That he can be awakened by one, such as I, and that he will grant aid to one who is in desperate need."
The eyes flung open, the room suddenly bursting with a light brighter than the moon and the sun, focusing on her. She covered her eyes with her arm, crumpling to her knees in pain.
"What makes you believe that you are in desperate enough need for such as Uduak to help you?" boomed the voice, shaking the room.
"I have no proof of desperate need," she cried, tumbling over and attempting to shield her eyes. "I am only one, and small, but I feel the calling of my trees in my blood and I will beg on these knees before you. I long only to return to my grove and that the Goblin King shall not have the Faery Queen to wife."
The lights dimmed a moment and Kiri looked up, afraid and hopeful. The large crystal, the color of a swan's beak, blinked at her.
"Give us a promise, witch." said the voice, speaking in time with the blinking eyes.
"What would you have of me?" she asked, tense and weak.
"When the Dragon King asks for a price, give him whatever he may ask."
"I will do this." she replied, though she was afraid. What "price" might Uduak require?
Satisfied, the eyes closed, one by one, and another door was revealed in the stone wall. The voices returned, whispering the way to the King's chambers, and she felt it like a sizzle in her blood. At the same moment that the voices drifted into the background, the opposite door opened, allowing Faolán into the chamber. He said nothing, his weapon partly unsheathed, looking at her in open astonishment.
Inscribed upon her forehead was a small ruby eye.
They did not rest long, quickly returning to their task of exploration. They did so with little zeal, as they were exhausted from marching and longing for fresh air. As children of Naira, the Moon Goddess, they felt a growing uneasiness the further they were from the moonlight. Though they adored their queen, they questioned her judgment and, silently, pondered returning to the surface, with or without the prince of dreams.
As they explored, they came to an abandoned oasis, which had become overgrown with malum flowers and carrion trees. In the humidity, and frondescence, was a rather large pool of stagnant water shadowed by the skeletal remains of a dragon cousin, the drake. Smaller than a dragon’s, the skeleton seemed poised to strike at an enemy and the foliage around it appeared as though it had risen up to prevent it. It was a startling sight and the men stood in awe of the scene. As they stood, agog, Kiri crept into the passage. She drew near to Faolán, her teal eyes glowing. She did not touch him, her gaze bound to the view.
As if rising from a dream, Faolán felt her presence and he turned to look at the sorceress. She stood as still as a statue, at first, her face unusually pale. Half in fear, and half in wonder, he reached out to touch one tangled strand of beryl hair. She turned to look at him and his mouth went dry.
Slowly, she moved toward the remains, whispering. No one moved to stop her, watching in shock as the vegetation parted for her. The drake's bones began to tremble, as though a great weight was pressed upon it. The witch lifted her hands, almost in reverence, and her mumbling became chattering, growing louder and louder. It grew until her voice was as deep as the ocean and as brutal as the winter winds. The drake began to sway and the overgrown forests fell back, releasing it.
"Show me." she demanded, her hair rising as though in the grip of a building storm. She began to glow, her tattoos suddenly vibrant and her whole being vibrating under some unseen strain. An illusory storm burst inside the tunnel, bending the overgrowth to its will and building in pressure until it seemed that they would all be destroyed. Several guards fell into a swoon, collapsing like flowers in a hurricane.
"Kiri," cried Faolán, throwing himself against the swirling magic. "Cease! Thou wilt destroy us all!"
Without turning, she threw out a hand and he was ensnared by snake-like vines, twisting themselves into his clothing, almost to his skin.
Tangled, he watched in wonder as the drake's skeletal wings began to beat, lifting it up and revealing a hidden room. It hovered for a moment, blazing as brightly as a torch, waiting for some signal. Then, gently, the drake landed, settling like an over-sized dog before a fire, its long decayed snout pointing toward the door. Just as quickly as it had risen up, the witch storm surceased and the whole passageway fell into an unearthly silence.
The scouts watched, gaping at the scene in something resembling reverence and horror, as Kiri neared the wooden archway. The door opened slowly, an eerie light illuminating an ivy draped frame and a glimpse of glowing runes. She seemed entranced, her body moving almost mechanically, still pulsating with the effects of magic.
Faolán, still twisted up with vines, tried to reach his sword to hack his way out. The vines, however, suddenly offered no resistance and fell away. Sprinting toward Kiri, he tried to grab her and pull her away from the entrance. Too late, his fingers grazed her henna skin as the heavy oaken door slammed in his face. No matter how he beat against it, he could not enter and, when he pressed his ear to the timber, he heard nothing but his own heart pounding against his ribs.
Kiri glanced back at the door, Faolán's touch against her wrist fading and her heart pounding in her ears. She should be unsurprised, the unseen thread drawing her to the center of the hexagonal chamber. The voices of ghosts bubbled in her blood, warnings and secrets, hooking into her subconscious and dragging her to her knees. The walls were carved with shimmering crystal eyes, each shining brighter than the next and blinking out of time. They observed her, kneeling as though she were rooted to the floor.
"Why have you come, enchantress?" asked a soft voice, resonating long years and deep scars.
"I have come as a prisoner of the Faery Court." she replied. The weight of years settled upon her shoulders, like a heavy cloak, pressing her against the rough hewn floor.
"What do the Moon children desire to find within these caves?"
"We come seeking the Dragon King and the Prince of Dreams. The Queen of Faeries is under siege by the King of Goblins and she is in need of an ally. No ally is as powerful as a Dragon."
"The Dragons have long faded from this world," said the voice, all the eyes closing in unison, leaving the room in complete darkness. "You will find no allies here."
Struggling to her feet, Kiri took a step toward a large crystal, the color of a swan's beak, fighting down the overwhelming terror she felt as all the voices within her went silent.
"Please, she cried, her hands outstretched, imploring. "There are myths, stories passed between the goddesses as they bathe, that say that the Dragon King, Uduak, still lives. That he can be awakened by one, such as I, and that he will grant aid to one who is in desperate need."
The eyes flung open, the room suddenly bursting with a light brighter than the moon and the sun, focusing on her. She covered her eyes with her arm, crumpling to her knees in pain.
"What makes you believe that you are in desperate enough need for such as Uduak to help you?" boomed the voice, shaking the room.
"I have no proof of desperate need," she cried, tumbling over and attempting to shield her eyes. "I am only one, and small, but I feel the calling of my trees in my blood and I will beg on these knees before you. I long only to return to my grove and that the Goblin King shall not have the Faery Queen to wife."
The lights dimmed a moment and Kiri looked up, afraid and hopeful. The large crystal, the color of a swan's beak, blinked at her.
"Give us a promise, witch." said the voice, speaking in time with the blinking eyes.
"What would you have of me?" she asked, tense and weak.
"When the Dragon King asks for a price, give him whatever he may ask."
"I will do this." she replied, though she was afraid. What "price" might Uduak require?
Satisfied, the eyes closed, one by one, and another door was revealed in the stone wall. The voices returned, whispering the way to the King's chambers, and she felt it like a sizzle in her blood. At the same moment that the voices drifted into the background, the opposite door opened, allowing Faolán into the chamber. He said nothing, his weapon partly unsheathed, looking at her in open astonishment.
Inscribed upon her forehead was a small ruby eye.
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